In 5 days, I will be thinking the same things, only about my other lost baby. The one that is harder to talk about. We named the baby Willow. I had a feeling that she was a girl, but I don't know. Since I was just 15 weeks and didn't get a chance to find out, it's harder to imagine. I know that without Adley, Willow wouldn't have happened. And vice versa. It is such an odd feeling, though. I wanted both of them. I wish they both could have lived. I won't ever understand why, but hopefully, someday I will be able to accept it.
About Me
- Bethany
- I am modern mom to two wonderful boys. I am married to my childhood sweetheart and love of my life. I am on a journey to wellness in my personal life and for my family as well. Why I Blog: I have found that writing in general is very freeing for me. I enjoy writing and the idea that other people are reading what I'm writing moves me. If even just ONE thing I post touches, moves, or helps another human in ways that I have been touched by bloggers, I am pleased. Blogging is my release. And once it's out there, it's free for anyone and everyone.
Monday, April 29, 2013
Due Dates
Today is the day that I was due with Adley, 1 year ago. He would have been 1 year old today. Such a milestone. I often try to imagine what he might look like. Would he look like his brothers? Would he have blonde curls like Elliot did at that age, or would he have fine, dark hair like Jack? I know he would be a pudgy baby, as both of the boys were.
Friday, April 19, 2013
Good days and bad days
So much has happened since my last post. I hate when I take time off from blogging because it feels like I'm trying to cram everything into one post once I finally decide to write. I haven't written in over 3 months. I know I feel better when I write or blog but blogging also makes me FEEL my feelings. And sometimes I just don't want to feel them. Sometimes I don't want to feel anything. I think of how fantastic it would feel to be able to just stay in bed and watch primetime TV all day. I'm normally not one for watching TV much but it would feel so....boring. Which sounds so.... pleasant.
Some days.
It's hard to figure out which days are good and which are bad. Sometimes the days that are the best are the days when I've forgotten about everything that has happened; that is until I realize I haven't thought of my babies all day. And I feel guilty for "forgetting". I know I'm not actually forgetting. I'm logical in that sense. It's a fine line to walk, though.
And then there are times when my "good days" are when all I do is listen to melancholy music all day and think about my babies and my life. And even though it makes me sad and angry and frustrated, it's a "good" day. I want to feel those feelings. I need to feel them. And that is a hard concept for many to grasp. People want me to be happy again. They want me to move on.
But how? How do I move and still miss my babies who are gone?
Some days.
It's hard to figure out which days are good and which are bad. Sometimes the days that are the best are the days when I've forgotten about everything that has happened; that is until I realize I haven't thought of my babies all day. And I feel guilty for "forgetting". I know I'm not actually forgetting. I'm logical in that sense. It's a fine line to walk, though.
And then there are times when my "good days" are when all I do is listen to melancholy music all day and think about my babies and my life. And even though it makes me sad and angry and frustrated, it's a "good" day. I want to feel those feelings. I need to feel them. And that is a hard concept for many to grasp. People want me to be happy again. They want me to move on.
But how? How do I move and still miss my babies who are gone?
Monday, December 10, 2012
They're everywhere
Pregnant women, that is.
And babies.
Big, pregnant bellies, facebook announcements, tiny little feet, perfectly healthy smiles.
Bliss.
And I hate it. I hate that it's not me. That should be me rubbing my belly. I should have been finding out if my baby was a boy or a girl. I should be planning the move to our bigger house. Because we needed a bigger house to fill with children.
They say "You already have 2 children, you should just be happy." or "You can try again! Don't give up." or "Time heals all wounds." or "Everything happens for a reason."
And to that I say "fuck off". But I don't actually say it. I smile and nod and agree. Because they don't know. They have never felt the ache. And I'm so happy for them. Truly, I am. I wish I wasn't a member of the "club".
I want to be able to show off my beautiful, pregnant belly to everyone; friends and strangers alike. But I know that if that were me, I'd just be making another mama like me feel the pain and heartache that I feel. So I'll just sit back and be jealous of their blissful ignorance.
And babies.
Big, pregnant bellies, facebook announcements, tiny little feet, perfectly healthy smiles.
Bliss.
And I hate it. I hate that it's not me. That should be me rubbing my belly. I should have been finding out if my baby was a boy or a girl. I should be planning the move to our bigger house. Because we needed a bigger house to fill with children.
They say "You already have 2 children, you should just be happy." or "You can try again! Don't give up." or "Time heals all wounds." or "Everything happens for a reason."
And to that I say "fuck off". But I don't actually say it. I smile and nod and agree. Because they don't know. They have never felt the ache. And I'm so happy for them. Truly, I am. I wish I wasn't a member of the "club".
I want to be able to show off my beautiful, pregnant belly to everyone; friends and strangers alike. But I know that if that were me, I'd just be making another mama like me feel the pain and heartache that I feel. So I'll just sit back and be jealous of their blissful ignorance.
Wednesday, November 28, 2012
Indescribable pain
This is one of the last pictures I have of me being pregnant. I have plenty of pictures of my pregnancies with Jack and Elliot but I don't have many of my pregnancies that ended early. I wish that my belly could have gotten bigger; that my baby could have continued to grow.
One of the biggest struggles for me right now is the thought that I won't ever be pregnant again. I am so grateful that I've had the ability to conceive so easily and that I have 2 beautiful healthy children as a result. I'm just having a hard time accepting the fact that I'm done. That I'll never be pregnant again; I'll never give birth again. Never breastfeed another baby. Never snuggle another baby. I was supposed to. My family isn't complete and it never will be. It's a sad truth that I'm having a hard time coming to terms with. Josh and I have discussed adoption (prior to getting pregnant with Adley) and I suppose it can still be an option. I just need time to cope with this first. I know there are options for us, I just hate that they are not options I would have chosen.
This all makes me feel so selfish. I get mad at myself for being upset because some women NEVER get to conceive on their own. For them, sometimes they only choice is adoption. That must be so difficult. So devastating. I can't even begin to imagine the pain those women feel.
And that's when I'm brought back down to earth. We all feel pain. No ones pain is "worse" or "easier" than anyone else. We all feel it in different ways; different times in our lives. I need to allow myself to feel the pain. To be hurt. And as Pink says "Just because it's burns doesn't mean you're gonna die. You gotta get up and try."
So I'll let it hurt. And I'll feel the pain. And eventually I will get up and try. When I'm ready, I'll move from the pain and hurt and figure out what this means for me. For my life and for my family.
Friday, November 23, 2012
Numb
So here I sit, quite literally, empty. And feeling more alone than I have ever felt before.
It's been one week since my baby was taken from my body. Only this time I wasn't awake to give birth. I didn't see my baby. I chose to have a procedure called "D & E". It stands for dilation and evacuation. Whatever you do, DO NOT google it. It's rather gruesome and I regret typing those words into the search bar. The doctor that performed the procedure did talk to me about what it entailed. And I was okay with that. I knew that my baby would not come out whole. I knew what would be happening, but I was NOT willing to endure the hours of labor as I had in the past only to give birth to a baby I didn't even get to take home with me. I've done that before and it was not something I wanted to experience again.
So last Friday I went in for the procedure. Josh came with me and waited for me to come out. I'm gald he was there with me. It was much harder than I expected, emotionally. I went in to the room with a baby in my womb, and came out empty. I knew this would happen, obviously, but I wasn't prepared to feel such a......void.
Physically, the procedure was painless. I mean, I was asleep and drugged up so clearly I wasn't feeling anything. But even afterward, I had minimal pain and very little bleeding. Nothing like the other times when I'd been induced in the hospital.
I have been feeling pretty great, on the outside. But inside I don't feel much of anything. I want to feel something. ANYTHING. I want to be sad and mad and frustrated and quite frankly pissed the fuck off. But I don't feel any of those things. I feel numb. I feel as though everyone has already moved on and forgotten. I think about my babies all day. I want them with me. They are my children and will always be mine. And I'm sad when I think of what happened. But I still don't feel much, if any, real emotions. I want to cry and scream and do all of those things I'm supposed to do, but I keep filling my time with other things.
Avoiding it maybe? Postponing the inevitable? Maybe. But until I start to feel again, I'll just continue to write. And search. And if I come up with something or find my break, you'll be the first to know. Because (insert religious figure here) knows I won't be sharing it out loud with people close to me; people who say they care about me and want to listen, but in reality they're scared that I'll share too much. They're afraid I will talk about it too much and mostly they think I should be over it by now. I mean, it's been over a week since I found out, right? That's plenty of time to greive, no? Nevermind the fact that I wasn't even finished grieving the loss of Adley yet and it's been a year.
But I'll get over it. Until then I'll just feel numb.
It's been one week since my baby was taken from my body. Only this time I wasn't awake to give birth. I didn't see my baby. I chose to have a procedure called "D & E". It stands for dilation and evacuation. Whatever you do, DO NOT google it. It's rather gruesome and I regret typing those words into the search bar. The doctor that performed the procedure did talk to me about what it entailed. And I was okay with that. I knew that my baby would not come out whole. I knew what would be happening, but I was NOT willing to endure the hours of labor as I had in the past only to give birth to a baby I didn't even get to take home with me. I've done that before and it was not something I wanted to experience again.
So last Friday I went in for the procedure. Josh came with me and waited for me to come out. I'm gald he was there with me. It was much harder than I expected, emotionally. I went in to the room with a baby in my womb, and came out empty. I knew this would happen, obviously, but I wasn't prepared to feel such a......void.
Physically, the procedure was painless. I mean, I was asleep and drugged up so clearly I wasn't feeling anything. But even afterward, I had minimal pain and very little bleeding. Nothing like the other times when I'd been induced in the hospital.
I have been feeling pretty great, on the outside. But inside I don't feel much of anything. I want to feel something. ANYTHING. I want to be sad and mad and frustrated and quite frankly pissed the fuck off. But I don't feel any of those things. I feel numb. I feel as though everyone has already moved on and forgotten. I think about my babies all day. I want them with me. They are my children and will always be mine. And I'm sad when I think of what happened. But I still don't feel much, if any, real emotions. I want to cry and scream and do all of those things I'm supposed to do, but I keep filling my time with other things.
Avoiding it maybe? Postponing the inevitable? Maybe. But until I start to feel again, I'll just continue to write. And search. And if I come up with something or find my break, you'll be the first to know. Because (insert religious figure here) knows I won't be sharing it out loud with people close to me; people who say they care about me and want to listen, but in reality they're scared that I'll share too much. They're afraid I will talk about it too much and mostly they think I should be over it by now. I mean, it's been over a week since I found out, right? That's plenty of time to greive, no? Nevermind the fact that I wasn't even finished grieving the loss of Adley yet and it's been a year.
But I'll get over it. Until then I'll just feel numb.
November 16th...are you kidding me??
I was referred to an OB who was skilled in performing D & E's. I met with him on Tuesday November 13th, just one day after we found out that our baby had died inside of me.
I was so grateful for Dr. Chang. He gave me all of the information I wanted and needed to make the best decision about how to proceed. I had already endured labor and delivery of a dead baby TWICE. I didn't want to do that again and I begged to just have the d&e and get it over with. Dr. Chang really wanted to make sure I understood the risks involved with this procedure. I knew what the risks were. They could break my cervix or perforate my uterus potentially ending my chance at ever having more children. This was a risk I was willing to take as I know I never want to be pregnant again. Ever.
On to the significance of the date. Dr Chang tells me that he can get me in for the procedure on Friday at 11:30am. I instantly started crying. Friday was November 16th. The exact date, one year ago, that Adley was born. Are you fucking kidding me? And not to mention it's the day before my oldest son's birthday. So every year I get to mourn the loss of two children on the same day and then celebrate the life of my son the following day. It's just ridiculous to me. How can this be happening?
For a few days after hearing of the loss, I kept waking up thinking it was Monday the 12th. It was as if my mind and heart were not willing to accept that Monday had happened. I truly felt as though I was waking up still pregnant. I mean, I WAS pregnant. But I really hoped my baby was still alive.
It would take a minute to snap back to reality.
I was so grateful for Dr. Chang. He gave me all of the information I wanted and needed to make the best decision about how to proceed. I had already endured labor and delivery of a dead baby TWICE. I didn't want to do that again and I begged to just have the d&e and get it over with. Dr. Chang really wanted to make sure I understood the risks involved with this procedure. I knew what the risks were. They could break my cervix or perforate my uterus potentially ending my chance at ever having more children. This was a risk I was willing to take as I know I never want to be pregnant again. Ever.
On to the significance of the date. Dr Chang tells me that he can get me in for the procedure on Friday at 11:30am. I instantly started crying. Friday was November 16th. The exact date, one year ago, that Adley was born. Are you fucking kidding me? And not to mention it's the day before my oldest son's birthday. So every year I get to mourn the loss of two children on the same day and then celebrate the life of my son the following day. It's just ridiculous to me. How can this be happening?
For a few days after hearing of the loss, I kept waking up thinking it was Monday the 12th. It was as if my mind and heart were not willing to accept that Monday had happened. I truly felt as though I was waking up still pregnant. I mean, I WAS pregnant. But I really hoped my baby was still alive.
It would take a minute to snap back to reality.
Thursday, November 15, 2012
50 shades of fucked up
I don't even know how to start this post. If you've been reading my posts and following along, you can probably understand how crazy, fucked up and confusing this all is. Warning: It's about to get a thousand times more fucked. Bare with me, or just stop reading. That might be a better option at this point.
My last post was explaining what happened to me a year ago when we lost our sweet baby Adley at 16 weeks. If you followed my surrogacy blog you can go back to the post titled: "Misoprostal to induce Miscarriage" and basically understand that I went through that same exact experience again. I don't want to type it all out and re-live it because that shit was hard enough once, let alone TWICE! To make a very long story short: I was induced in the hospital and endured REAL labor and birthed Adley on November 16th, 2011.
In January 2012, I went to my 6 week check up (you know, the one you have 6 weeks after giving birth where all of the nurses are swooning over your 6 week old at how adorable he is and how he looks JUST like you, only I didn't have a 6 week old to bring for swooning). I requested an IUD at that time because I knew I didn't want to be pregnant again anytime soon, if at all! I decided on the copper IUD as it wasn't hormonal and I'm sort of a freak about added hormones in my body. (I get kind of crazy on hormonal birth control.) But 3 days after my doctor placed the IUD, it fell out! Yep. Just came right out. WTF? I thought that didn't happen? My uterus is pretty hostile or something. I didn't want to get another one (it really hurt getting it put in), so in the meantime I just chose to use condoms and natural family planning methods (because we all know how well THOSE work out!!). Well, my method worked for a little while, until July this year.
I found out I was pregnant, yet again. Only this time I wasn't that excited. How could I be?! I didn't tell anyone about the pregnancy, except of course my husband and the ninja's. (The ninja's are explained here.) I didn't let myself get happy, excited, prepared or feel anything other than fear and expecting of the worst. I had to protect myself. I really had a great feeling about this pregnancy way, way deep down. I thought MAYBE I would actually get to bring this baby home!! The thought was overwhelming, though. We didn't share this news with many people at all. I didn't even tell my mom until just a couple of weeks ago and my mother in law we told last Sunday night. We were cautiously optimistic.
When I found out I was pregnant this time I immediately called my doctor and asked him what we can do to make sure I keep this pregnancy. He referred me to a perinatal group about an hour away from me. We met with them at 9 weeks. We had an ultrasound which looked great, met with one of the perinatologists and went over all of my pregnancy history. She was awesome! She was very clinical and that's exactly what I needed. I didn't need someone telling me how sad it was and how sorry they were for my previous losses. I needed someone who was going to be proactive and help me keep this baby alive. And I thought she was the one who would do that.
The plan was solid. She ran many tests to check for clotting factors and other issues. Everything came back normal so her orders were to continue prenatal vitamins, take extra folic acid and take baby aspirin. And I did just that. She wanted to see me again at 15 weeks to do an in-depth ultrasound and make sure baby looked good and was growing well. (15 weeks was significant because it would be just before I lost the other pregnancies.)
My 15 week appt was Monday, November 12th, just 3 days ago.
We got there at 7:45am. Waited in agony in the waiting room. While we were waiting my husband was reading Newsweek magazine. I was so nervous and literally on the edge of my seat. I actually remember saying over and over again in my head a prayer to God. (For those of you who know me, you know I don't pray. I don't pray because I don't believe in the christian God. I grew up as a Lutheran, however I walked away from that religion when I learned about science and other religions.) So there I am, praying to a God I don't believe in.
"Dear God,
I don't know if you're real, but if you are, please do me this one favor. PLEASE let my baby be alive. I'm a good person. I've done good things in my life. If you can just do this ONE thing for me, please keep my baby alive.
Please."
I said that about 3 or 4 times until the nurse called us back. We went to the room and got settled. She explained what she would be doing and all of the measurements she would be taking. When she got started I saw the screen and immediately put my arm over my eyes. The baby wasn't moving. But maybe that was normal? I peeked through as she looked at the chest. No movement. No heart flutters.
Fuck.
Not again.
I put my arm back over my face clinging to hope that I was wrong. Searching my head for reasons I could be seeing things. This could not be happening again, right?!
The nurse didn't say a thing the entire time. So I finally asked the dreaded question.
"Is there a heartbeat?"
Silence.
My eyes welled up with tears. She said "Here is the chest cavity. I'm not seeing any fetal heart movement."
I lost it. This CANNOT be happening to me AGAIN!!! What did I do?! What did I do to deserve this?!?!?! She finished up the measurements and left the room assuring us the doctor would be in to speak with us.
I cried for a bit with my husband but then it stopped and I became numb. Meh, it happened again. We are not meant to be more than a family of 4. I wiped my face and pushed forward.
When the doctor came in she explained what they saw on the ultrasound. Hydrops in the head and chest. Fluid, basically. I guess that's possibly what caused it? I was already over it. I asked what was next. She explained I would need to do the hospital induction and I exclaimed that was not an option this time and I wanted something else. D&C, D&E, c-section. I didn't care. NOT the induction again.
She said she would talk with my primary doctor and figure something out.
We left the clinic empty hearted but still had a baby inside. A dead baby. IN my body.
I went shopping.
My last post was explaining what happened to me a year ago when we lost our sweet baby Adley at 16 weeks. If you followed my surrogacy blog you can go back to the post titled: "Misoprostal to induce Miscarriage" and basically understand that I went through that same exact experience again. I don't want to type it all out and re-live it because that shit was hard enough once, let alone TWICE! To make a very long story short: I was induced in the hospital and endured REAL labor and birthed Adley on November 16th, 2011.
In January 2012, I went to my 6 week check up (you know, the one you have 6 weeks after giving birth where all of the nurses are swooning over your 6 week old at how adorable he is and how he looks JUST like you, only I didn't have a 6 week old to bring for swooning). I requested an IUD at that time because I knew I didn't want to be pregnant again anytime soon, if at all! I decided on the copper IUD as it wasn't hormonal and I'm sort of a freak about added hormones in my body. (I get kind of crazy on hormonal birth control.) But 3 days after my doctor placed the IUD, it fell out! Yep. Just came right out. WTF? I thought that didn't happen? My uterus is pretty hostile or something. I didn't want to get another one (it really hurt getting it put in), so in the meantime I just chose to use condoms and natural family planning methods (because we all know how well THOSE work out!!). Well, my method worked for a little while, until July this year.
I found out I was pregnant, yet again. Only this time I wasn't that excited. How could I be?! I didn't tell anyone about the pregnancy, except of course my husband and the ninja's. (The ninja's are explained here.) I didn't let myself get happy, excited, prepared or feel anything other than fear and expecting of the worst. I had to protect myself. I really had a great feeling about this pregnancy way, way deep down. I thought MAYBE I would actually get to bring this baby home!! The thought was overwhelming, though. We didn't share this news with many people at all. I didn't even tell my mom until just a couple of weeks ago and my mother in law we told last Sunday night. We were cautiously optimistic.
When I found out I was pregnant this time I immediately called my doctor and asked him what we can do to make sure I keep this pregnancy. He referred me to a perinatal group about an hour away from me. We met with them at 9 weeks. We had an ultrasound which looked great, met with one of the perinatologists and went over all of my pregnancy history. She was awesome! She was very clinical and that's exactly what I needed. I didn't need someone telling me how sad it was and how sorry they were for my previous losses. I needed someone who was going to be proactive and help me keep this baby alive. And I thought she was the one who would do that.
The plan was solid. She ran many tests to check for clotting factors and other issues. Everything came back normal so her orders were to continue prenatal vitamins, take extra folic acid and take baby aspirin. And I did just that. She wanted to see me again at 15 weeks to do an in-depth ultrasound and make sure baby looked good and was growing well. (15 weeks was significant because it would be just before I lost the other pregnancies.)
My 15 week appt was Monday, November 12th, just 3 days ago.
We got there at 7:45am. Waited in agony in the waiting room. While we were waiting my husband was reading Newsweek magazine. I was so nervous and literally on the edge of my seat. I actually remember saying over and over again in my head a prayer to God. (For those of you who know me, you know I don't pray. I don't pray because I don't believe in the christian God. I grew up as a Lutheran, however I walked away from that religion when I learned about science and other religions.) So there I am, praying to a God I don't believe in.
"Dear God,
I don't know if you're real, but if you are, please do me this one favor. PLEASE let my baby be alive. I'm a good person. I've done good things in my life. If you can just do this ONE thing for me, please keep my baby alive.
Please."
I said that about 3 or 4 times until the nurse called us back. We went to the room and got settled. She explained what she would be doing and all of the measurements she would be taking. When she got started I saw the screen and immediately put my arm over my eyes. The baby wasn't moving. But maybe that was normal? I peeked through as she looked at the chest. No movement. No heart flutters.
Fuck.
Not again.
I put my arm back over my face clinging to hope that I was wrong. Searching my head for reasons I could be seeing things. This could not be happening again, right?!
The nurse didn't say a thing the entire time. So I finally asked the dreaded question.
"Is there a heartbeat?"
Silence.
My eyes welled up with tears. She said "Here is the chest cavity. I'm not seeing any fetal heart movement."
I lost it. This CANNOT be happening to me AGAIN!!! What did I do?! What did I do to deserve this?!?!?! She finished up the measurements and left the room assuring us the doctor would be in to speak with us.
I cried for a bit with my husband but then it stopped and I became numb. Meh, it happened again. We are not meant to be more than a family of 4. I wiped my face and pushed forward.
When the doctor came in she explained what they saw on the ultrasound. Hydrops in the head and chest. Fluid, basically. I guess that's possibly what caused it? I was already over it. I asked what was next. She explained I would need to do the hospital induction and I exclaimed that was not an option this time and I wanted something else. D&C, D&E, c-section. I didn't care. NOT the induction again.
She said she would talk with my primary doctor and figure something out.
We left the clinic empty hearted but still had a baby inside. A dead baby. IN my body.
I went shopping.
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